


fallout kid

by proximally



Series: abandoned works [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Gen, Implied Nuclear Apocalypse, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Radiation Sickness, Temporary Character Death, Terminal Illnesses, different fragments w different POVs, mentions of nuclear weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proximally/pseuds/proximally
Summary: When you leave the Underground, you find that the Surface is not as you left it.
Series: abandoned works [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981928
Kudos: 7
Collections: Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs





	fallout kid

**Author's Note:**

> originally written in april 2016.
> 
> please stay safe and heed the tags!! this isn't a happy one, especially as it stands unfinished.

At first, it seems this child is no different than the others. They are young, and afraid, but determined to leave the Ruins, no matter how much she argues that they would be better off here, where it’s safe, where she can look after them. They make gestures at her sometimes, one that she can’t understand - she knows it’s a form of human language, but that’s the extent of her knowledge. There’s never been anyone who could teach her, and for all the wisdom her books contain, human sign language isn’t among it. They switch to writing notes as soon as they get their hands on a pen.

They leave only hours after they arrive, quicker than any of children that came before them. They seem harried and frustrated when she challenges them, like they don’t have time for this, for _any_ of this, but when she hugs them, they cling to her fiercely and tears well up in their eyes. It’s odd, considering how little time had passed since they’d met, how...not cold, but... _preoccupied_ they’d been up until this point. 

They mouth a regretful _‘sorry’_ at her before taking off down the long, long corridor at a jog, and she doesn’t see them again for some time.

* * *

The kid’s a weird one, alright. Not malicious in any way, but they just don’t stop moving - even standing still, they hop from one foot to another and steal nervous glances at the path ahead. They absolutely _fly_ through the puzzles, so quickly and accurately that Sans is definitely suspecting time travel. By the time he decides to breach the topic with the kid, they’re already in Waterfall. And then they essentially tell him they’ll take a rain check, which is pretty rude, especially considering how he’s offering to get them _out_ of the rain. They walk and talk instead; or rather, Sans asks yes-or-no questions while the kid nods.

 _Yes_ , they have done this before.

 _No,_ they can’t say why.

 _Yes_ , something bad happened.

 _Yes_ , it will happen again.

 _Yes,_ they are trying to stop it.

They stare at him a moment, as still as he’s ever seen them. _...yes,_ they could perhaps use some help. Apparently that option had never even crossed their mind.

* * *

When you leave the Underground, you find that the Surface is not as you left it. 

The monsters don't know any different. They don't know that the sunset should never be that red, nor the plants and trees so grey or still. They don't know that the birds should be singing and the cicadas chirping and the little mice and lizards rustling in the tall mountain grass. 

The Surface is dead, or close enough.

They send out a party to the nearest human settlement, despite your warnings, despite your pleas. You feel in your bones that this isn't a good idea. You go against the tide pouring out of the mountain, and hole up behind the thick rock, hiding from the angry sun. 

You get sick anyway. You're not the first, and you're not the most serious, but you're the one who knows exactly what it means. You were taught about this in physics lessons, and in biology, and you remember assemblies and documentaries on it too. It's been one of humanity’s greatest fears for a long, long time. You think they were right to worry. 

It was scary, back before you fell. Always on the news were the growing hostilities in the world; the little fights that broke out, here, there, and everywhere, over ‘luxury’ goods and fuel. Explosives planted in government buildings by discontented citizens. People arguing about food and electricity, overpopulation and human rights. You’d hoped, perhaps naively, that bringing the monsters to the Surface could help solve these things. It made sense to you - easing, for example, the energy worries by introducing a new renewable source - but in hindsight that probably hadn’t been a good idea anyway. They’d only nuke the mountain instead.

Monsters don’t deal well with radiation, you’ve found. Up to a certain point, they function just fine, but beyond that…? Well, what happens then reminds you far too much of the Amalgamates. The scouting party is nothing but dust within twenty-four hours. You, though? You linger. It’s not pleasant. One of the worst ways to die, if anyone asked you, and you’ve been burnt, stabbed, crushed, strangled, speared and blown up - at least you’d never suffered for long. You’re not resetting yet, though, not if you can help it, because you’ve entertained the theory that every reset creates a new timeline, one that persists even after you’ve left it. You don’t want your friends - your new family - to die alone.

It doesn’t take long.

You wake on a bed of golden flowers, and it takes you a while to even consider getting up. The pain is gone, physically, but it lingers in your mind. Oh, the injuries you sustained in your fall are still there, every bruise and scrape and fractured bone, but that’s nothing compared to how you felt before. You lie there in the filtered sunlight, and you’re almost asleep when you hear Flowey’s familiar greeting. You ignore him. There’s no point to going anywhere anymore. Trying to go home would be a bad idea, and granting the monsters’ wish and breaking the Barrier would be worse.

He won’t be ignored, though, and you’re startled into clarity by him yelling “Howdy!” in your ear.

Well. You might as well go make friends again. You’ve got nothing to lose.

* * *

It’s your fifth reset since you discovered that you can never go home. 

The first time you’d gone through everything just like before, except you’d never entered the palace. It worked, for a time. And then the King got sick.

The second time, you’d tried to warn people. You were half successful; you’d managed to explain it to Alphys, and though she’d been pretty shocked by your admission of time travel, she’d buckled down and become an organisational force to be reckoned with. It was just a shame that you’d forgotten the trash dump, and the hole you’d fallen through.

The third time, the first person you talked to was Sans. Your reasoning was that, whether he believed you or not, he could definitely get you to Hotland faster than your legs could take you. He...well. You wouldn’t be trying that one again. Not without a planned speech.

The fourth time, you stayed with Toriel. Taking a breather, sort of, some time to think and plan. You took note of the exact time the monsters - and you - started getting sick: [x] days. Not much to work with, when you need to block up the Barrier and the hole in the Ruins, and put a plug in Waterfall. As you and Toriel are dying, slowly, you tell her why. Just to pass the time, really. She’s shocked, of course, but she can feel her time running out and makes you promise to explain it again. She was the Queen, after all; if there’s one thing she knows, it’s logistics.

So here you are. 


End file.
